Dance with the Devil
by AngelusWillow
Summary: He was innocent of the charges. But he was their lamb sent to slaughter. Thankfully he didn't 'die' like the others and now he has his freedom. Those that betrayed him had best watch their backs because he's always had a sweet tooth and he's looking for the sweet candy of revenge. Dark!Harry HPDM


**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter at all.

**Warning **: Follows Philospher's Stone until the last two chapters, revenge, bad language, eventual HPDM, possible nudity, violence, eventual character death (not telling!), Dark!Harry, Manpipulative Dumbledore, and Ron bashing (don't get me wrong I absolutely adore Ron, but for this story its a necassary evil), slash...

_**Revised**_: 7/10/2012

_[Parseltongue]_

_**Dance with the Devil**_

_**1: Tears Never Fall**_

_He watched as over half the room raised a hand in agreement with the verdict and Harry felt his throat close up as he trembled with the cold that permeated around him from the Dementors that hovered close. He could barely hear anything thanks to the screams of a woman that rang in his ears, and the sudden spots of brilliant green that flashed in the corners of his vision made him jump which caused the chains around his arms to shake and tighten every time._

_"Harry James Potter, for premeditated murder in the first degree and attempted murder in the second degree you are hereby sentenced to life in Azkaban with no chance of parole and to be given the Dementor's Kiss. May you rot in hell."_

_Verdant eyes went wide at the accusations and watered at what was going to happen to him. He'd heard rumors of such things, but never for a moment did he think that he would be subject to such injustice. He may not know much about the court system and how things were carried out, especially in the Wizarding world; but he'd glimpsed enough of the criminal investigation shows that his aunt liked to figure that he was being cheated out of a fair trial. He hadn't even been allowed to defend himself. His gaze flicked to where the people he knew sat and saw their condemning stares. But the ones that hurt him the most where Dumbledore's blank, darkened gaze and Ron's triumphant one. It was almost as if they'd planned this..._

_"No...NO! I didn't do it!" He cried out desperately, jerking about in his seat as the screams of his mother grew louder and louder in his head. "I swear I didn't! I swear upon the love of my mother and father! I would-"_

_His cries went silent as he froze to the spot, a Dementor gliding into his vision, blocking everything else. He stared at the tall, hooded creature of darkness. It's face was hidden from him, but he could hear its raspy, rattling breathing as it bore down on him, reaching with rotting, skeletal hands. It was in that moment, as the coldness seem to wrap around his small form like a rope and dangled him over a dark abyss, that something in him broke as he cowered in the hard chair. Harry could hear his heart palpitating wildly in his chest, felt his breath enter and exit his lungs._

_Past the form of the Dementor, the audience was grinning in savage glee; their jeers and taunts going unheard to the child. Only a few stared on with regret and helplessness. And with anger that things had gone this way. But there was nothing to do about it now, it was too late._

_Why was he here? Why had his best mate lied? What had he done other than exist in a world that saw him as a Savior? Why was no one standing up for him? Questions within his head fluttered about unanswered as one by one they were shot down by the same word. _

_Freak..._

_He was a freak. That was why this was happening. His uncle was right. Always had been. There was no escape for him. Darkening green eyes stared blankly as his heart cracked a bit more and long arms wrapped around him, pulling him close and tilting his head back. A hush swept over the crowd, but they were forgotten as he smelled the rank breath of the Dark creature as it brought its mouth close to his. Suddenly he felt a deep cold bleeding into his veins as his vision became spotted with gray and black flowed in from the edges. As the chill reached his fingers and toes he heard the cries of the crowd whilst his soul fluttered away and he dropped limply into the chair in dead faint._

/*/*/*/*\*\*\*\

_Location : Azkaban Island_

_Date : June 2nd, 2002_

The images faded from his mind, a bit too slowly for his liking but he could live with it since it was a constant occurance. The memory of his pursecution plagued his every sleeping moment, reminding him over and over of the betrayal and injustice. Those sneers and smirks lay forever imprinted within his mind as he plotted and planned his revenge. They would feel his wrath. He'd been suckled by Fate since birth and Misfortune had taught him to walk before handing him to Darkness to raise. He shuddered, dispersing the heavy thoughts as if they were water.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he outstretched his lanky body from the corner that he'd slept in and gazed about his cold dank cell. It'd been eleven years- the same age he'd been when he'd been thrown in here quite literally- since he'd slept in a bed or had the luxury of hot food. But he didn't mind. He found that he was actually quite fond of his cell- it was his right?- because it was the only constant in his life, besides the Dementors and the cries of the other prisoners of course. Shrugging, he leaned up against his favorite wall, one that had a little indention from him sitting in that spot for so long, and let a dark chuckle croak from his barely used throat that was dry and achy.

His strange eyes, hidden behind a curtain of long shaggy black hair, peered about the dim darkness with a clarity of one well used to it. It was always twilight here in Azkaban as light dare not creep into the prison from behind its protective cloak of thick condensation. Instead it turned its back on the tower of terrified screams and insane mutterings; allowing waves of salty death to crash ruthlessly against the stony shores and harsh rain to pelt the skin of those unlucky to find an escape beyond on the blackened walls. Not many did though; too lost within their own minds to even feed themselves least of all move in an attempt to find freedom.

Except for him though. A soft sigh escaped his cracked lips and formed into a wispy white cloud, courtesty of the Dementor that had just floated by his cell. Unlike the other's who'd been subjected to the Kiss he had accepted the coldness that took hold of his heart and was allowed to remain 'normal' despite the emptiness that he constantly felt, but ignored.

All as normal as he could get anyways. It was a welcoming thought, next to the cold, that he was still completely sane. Unlike that insane bitch in the cell across from him. What was her name. Billy? Brandy? B-bella? Yeah. Bellatrix. She was so off her bloody rocker it wasn't even funny...Okay so it was funny and she was definitely a good singer partner on particularly rainy days. And speaking of singing...He looked out the bars of the cell to spot Bitchtrix already singing the song they usually sang. Grinning he joined in, making it a duet of a silky mezzo soprano and dark, husky baritone. Words floating through the air and causing all to go quiet throughout the prison.

"_Now my dear friend. Now for your sins. You're to suffer, here it begins. Drag ropes forth ward, shame will save you. How can you say no? Turn of the screw, gallows feel dawn's relief. Hood to blind you, be at peace. I was mortal but I am your friend, to stay and fear beside you. Always here I know, I'm always with you now..._"

As they finished the song the previous clamour slowly resumed to its usual noise and the two singers collapsed backwards in a fit of crazy giggles. One would think them great friends, but it was more like acqaintances. Harry knew that she had caused the fall of Neville's parents and she knew he was the fall of her beloved Dark Lord. They didn't fight, but they didn't talk to each other either...

Shaking himself out of his lapse in thought he searched his mind for what he'd previously been thinking. His brow furrowed in lazy concentration before he remembered.

Sanity... If he did indeed loss his mind he mentally admitted to himself that he would probably never even realize it. Shaking his head, causing the grimy hair to shift against deathly pale skin. Tilting his head back to look up at the dark stone ceiling he revealed eyes that one would compare to that of a bloodstone. The irises were a deep green and shot through with slim tendrils of a rusty red, almost like a sunburst, the entirety surrounded by a thin, barely noticable, ring of pale brown. The odd eyes were made even odder by the partially dilated pupil that widened before shrinking once again into cat-like slits as a wave of freezing cold air washed over him as yet another Dementor passed by, sucking up the nonexistant happiness out of everyone.

Harry's eyes were full of hate and betrayal as he remembered the first time he encountered the Dark creatures. A deep, throaty chuckle spilled from cracked lips and white teeth, his eyes gleaming with the images of that time that seemed so long ago. Baring his teeth with a low growl he eyed Bella as she retreated to her own corner and curled up on her side, facing away from him.

Pulling his legs up under him he crouched in his own corner of the empty room, his thoughts crawling about sluggishly as he contemplated. He felt a little spasm of pride that died as soon as it flared. The lingering feeling that had vanished causing him to pout in a childish manner. He wished he still had the emotions like happiness and pleasure...But to gain them back again he had to get away from here. Away from the whimpers and cries that he never took part it. He wasn't like the others, he didn't belong here. He didn't talk to himself...out loud at least. He didn't attempt to harm himself. And to be truthful he spent most of his time exercising or meditating while the little instincts within him taught him what they knew. It was a pure innocent and simple existence he supposed. And easy way to live after all the chaos of his previous life.

Giggling softly he tilted his head, spreading out his conscious to touch upon the entities that were the Dementors. Registering where they were and where they were floating to. It was easy now that he had a firm grasp on Occlumency and Legilimency- though he didn't know that was what it was called.

_[It's time…]_ A soft hiss escaped the rather large black snake as it slithered across the cold stone floor towards the door and with ease slid through the bars. Bright emerald orbs gleamed darkly, their focus solely ahead. The heads of the Dementors would tilt downwards as if sensing the creature but never did anything else except float on. They knew of the innocence that the boy, now man, held. They knew that what had happened was wrong. And they would not stop his escape for justified freedom. Down many floors the great serpent crawled, scales shifted subtly and with almost no noise to give away its position. Soon it exited the tower and made its way into the raging ocean that surrounded the tiny island.

It seemed like forever passed by as the snake swam through blue waters of both calm and rough sea, concentrating on staying afloat while also making sure that other creatures didn't decide to take a bite out of him. Its mind filled with the taste and scent of salt as it reveled in freedom. It felt so wonderous to not be curled in a corner, forgotten and unwanted. Now though...He would be remembered and needed. If only because he'd escaped from his containment. If snakes were able to smirk...Well you know the rest of that sentence I'm sure.

Nearly two weeks passed as the serpent swam almost nonstop, sometimes just allowing itsself to float along to rest weary muscles. It knew it definitely needed to workout and regain its strength when it reached land. And finally it landed, slithering up onto the pebbled beach only to go still when it was just beyond the water's reach. Not even caring that the sun was high in the sky and beating down warmly upon the chilled body. Its only worry to sleep as it form shifted to lengthen and grow arms and legs, its body dressed in worn beraggled gray clothes.

The young man didn't wake up until the sun began to kiss the horizon, casting the sky into shades of rich red and gleaming gold, his strange cat-like eyes blinking wearily and wondering what had woken him from his recuperating slumber. Propping himself up on shaky elbows he turned his head, ignoring the throbbing headache, to see water playfully licking at his ankles. Blinking once again he sighed. The tide was coming in and he knew for a fact that he wasn't far enough inland to escape it. With popping joints and an achy groan he stood, stretching in ways that only the most flexible could bend.

Upon finding himself limber and warm-blooded he strode into the woods that edged the pebbled shore, not caring that nettles pricked at his feet or that thorns scratched at his legs and face. But nonetheless he walked with a purpose- for what better purpose for a man who lost everything to have his revenge on those that took it? He walked and walked through woods and fields and over hills. Harry rested in trees and under croppings of rock as he slowly regained his strength and magic. It didn't take him too long to find a little well-to do looking house. Surrounded by wide open land edged with barbed wire fence. Snorting at the meager protection he made his way though the obstacle with little trouble and carefully made his way towards the house, keeping to the shadows of the trees that dotted the landscape.

Pine eyes watched the house, eyeing as a small family of five exited and left in their vehicle. He waited until they'd disappeared from view before he approached, checking all the first story windows until he found one slightly ajar on the second floor. With a bit more difficulty he climbed up and slunk into the house like a thief. Looking about he noted that he was in a young girls room, possibly around her early teens if the posters where any indication. Lip curling in disgust he slipped from the room and made his way downstairs, intent on finding the kitchen and filling his stomach with light foods and glass of fresh milk, washing the cup and putting it away as soon as he was done with it.

Wiping at his mouth he carried on to his next goal. Getting clean. His skin felt grimy and dry and it annoyed him to no end as he played with the facet of the tub to figure out how the shower worked. Sure a swim in the sea cleaned away most of the grime from prison, but it was nothing next to the hot water that cascaded over his body, turning his skin red as he scrubbed with a minty scented soap and washed his hair repeated with a shampoo that was much more feminine. Leave it to Azkaban to reveal a vain nature in someone who grew up selfishlessly. Climbing out of the tub he dried off quickly, unsure of how much time he had before the family returned, and gathered his prison garb to toss it in the trash.

Returning to the bathroom he brushed through his long hair- somewhat surprised that it cascaded all the way to his hips- and enjoying the feel of a brush getting rid of the knots and tangles even as he trimmed his bangs, making sure they were cut just so so his scar was ended. Braiding and tying off the end with a band of rubber he left the room after hanging the towel and went searching for clothes. The husband was much to broad and stocky whilst the youngest son was much too small. But thankfully the eldest son seem to be a scrawny beansprout much like he was at the moment with his emicated form.

Sniffing slightly he collected himself a pair of comfortable black cargo pants that he used a belt to cinch around his waist, along with a plain white shirt and a dark blue plaid long sleeve over top. Nodding to himself he pulled on a pair of socks and boots and sauntered back down to the bathroom to stare at him in the mirror. He couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that he didn't look at all like he used to. Wide eyes once bright green and filled with innocence and curiosity were now narrowed with suspicion and darkened from betrayal. Round cheeks were now hollowed, the cheekbones prominent. Giving him a somewhat gaunt look. He was glad he no longer had his glasses, the spindly things having become lost at sea when he was dragged to Azkaban. But it was no matter, he'd used what little magic he stored to correct his eyesight and he could see with clear, sharp vision.

Not to mention he couldn't deny that he had aged well. All he had to do was put some meat on his bones and he'd be the dream of any pure blood witch.

_[No one will even think that I'm what was once the Boy-Who-Lived. Wouldn't even cross their minds.]_

Snickering to himself he left the house qucikly through the daughter's window, having heard the front door opening as the family returned home. But it was no matter to him. His work was done. Now all he had to do was edge himself back into society without alerting England to his movements. And from what he'd seen, he was somewhere in Germany. Tilting his head he decided that that was wonderful for the time being, then maybe he could go visit France as well. He'd definitely have to find an owl and get ahold of the goblins at Gringotts though. He knew that they at least could be trusted.

It would be weeks before anyone noticed that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, had escaped from Azkaban prison.

/*/*/*/*/*\*\*\*\*\

**Note**: Song: _Drag Ropes_ by Storm Corrosion.

**Note Number 2**: The revised Chapter 2 will be up soon. Hopefully by tomorrow. Please be patient.


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